


After the Rain

by fleurofthecourt



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-23
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/771933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurofthecourt/pseuds/fleurofthecourt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Nick and Juliette break up and Monroe comes over to find a thoroughly broken up Nick.</p><p>(I've been going through my old drafts, and I remembered that I wrote a story entirely in Monroe's POV before deciding it worked better in Nick's. You guys get to read both now! You know, if you like. I know you're thrilled.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [After the Rain](https://archiveofourown.org/works/351530) by [fleurofthecourt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurofthecourt/pseuds/fleurofthecourt). 



> This was written, I want to say, in the middle of season 1.
> 
> I will freely tell you that Nick's POV is significantly better.

Monroe stood on the doorstep just outside of the steady downpour, wondering if Nick was even home. Even though his truck was in the driveway, none of the lights were on, and there was no sound coming from the house. When Nick finally opened the door, Monroe looked at him askance. 

Nick’s hair was thoroughly soaked, and everything he was wearing from his jacket to his jeans was dripping wet. Although there were water lines running down his cheeks, it was unclear whether this was because he had been crying or because he had quite obviously been standing out in the rain. Monroe was betting on the former since Nick’s eyes were hollow and red. In his left hand, he was holding an open black box containing what Monroe could only assume was an engagement ring. 

“I’m flattered, but I don’t think we’re there just yet,” Monroe said jokingly, waiting for Nick to move away from the door. 

When Nick didn’t react, Monroe rolled his eyes and pulled Nick inside as he motioned to his hand, “Dude, you’re holding a ring. Feel free to explain anytime.” 

But when Nick looked back at him with hurt, sad eyes that seem to ask that the subject not be broached, Monroe quickly added, “Or not. But perhaps you should put the ring away.” 

“Right,” Nick said, looking down at the ring as though it were a poisoned object he’d only just noticed he was holding, his eyes seeming like they were brimming with fresh tears. But he just closed them for a moment before opening the drawer of one of the end tables and setting the ring box inside. He closed the drawer slowly before flopping onto the couch. He simply stared into space and didn’t say a word. 

“So, I was just in the neighborhood so thought I’d stop by, though it kind of seems like it’s a bad time ...” Monroe trailed off, hoping that Nick might agree or wave him off or move or something. But nothing. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Monroe decided some more intense intervention on his part was going to be necessary. 

“I know it’s kind of late for coffee, but you look like you could really use some,” Monroe said. Then he firmly nudged Nick’s shoulder, in an attempt to get him to follow his next instructions, “Some dry clothes probably wouldn’t be a bad idea either. So I’ll, uh, be in the kitchen.” 

As Monroe fished through Nick’s kitchen for coffee supplies, he noticed further evidence of what he already suspected. There were far fewer objects in the kitchen than there had been the last time that he’d been there and pictures were missing from the refrigerator. He had known that there was trouble between Nick and Juliette, but he hadn’t imagined it was this bad. Then again, it was Nick. Nick who, Monroe had learned, didn’t always think things, like anniversary dinners, through. Nick who was overprotective to a fault, which was not perhaps a bad thing in and of itself, but could cause some serious problems, especially if one didn’t fully understand _why_ they were being overprotected. And probably most telling, Nick who still hadn’t, to the best of his knowledge, told her about his being a Grimm. 

Monroe mulled over Nick’s undoubtedly breaking heart, rolling his eyes and sighing in exasperation as he poured water in the coffee maker. Although he certainly wasn’t going to ever tell Nick, he had the feeling that Nick’s inaction and apparent lack of romantic inclination had led to this break-up. And Nick, too wrapped up in his Grimm work to notice the increasing chips in the relationship, had clearly been left in complete and utter shock by Juliette’s leaving. Although he felt a little bad for Juliette, he barely knew her so he decided it was best to just make sure Nick got through this. Besides, Nick didn’t make the best decisions on average, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see Nick attempting to catch non-law abiding wesen while also coping with a bad break-up. 

When Monroe returned to the living room, carrying two steaming mugs of coffee, it appeared as though Nick had not moved as he was sitting on the couch in the exact same position as he had left him. However, he had exchanged his wet clothes for a Portland Police Department sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. Monroe supposed that was something. 

He sat down next to Nick as he set the mugs on the coffee table. He began to sip at his coffee while waiting for Nick to take his. When Nick didn’t touch it, he picked the mug up and handed it to him, “You really look like you could use it.” 

Nick muttered a thank you and just held the cup for a while before sipping at it tentatively. Monroe, accepting the probability that Nick was going to start talking was roughly zero, decided to switch on the television. He channel surfed for a while before settling on a channel that was playing Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. He knew it was animated, not to mention romantic, but he really liked the movie, and it was rarely actually on television. Besides, Nick didn’t seem to be objecting. 

In fact, when Monroe started to hum along to Belle, Nick turned to him with a finger to his lip and said, “Ssh.”

As the movie continued, Nick began to doze off. His head sort of fell into Monroe’s shoulder as he mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “wake me up when he shows her the library.” Monroe let his head just rest there, smiling to himself that it wasn’t just Nick’s knee rubbing against his anymore. He tried not to think about it too much, telling himself that crushes weren’t things to be indulged in the middle of break-ups. It didn’t matter, really, as Nick gave him something new to worry about shortly thereafter as he began shivering in his sleep. 

“Dude, how long were you standing in the rain?” Monroe asked, more to himself than to Nick as he was fairly certain that Nick was still asleep. Then he gently pushed Nick off of him to search for blankets. When he found one that he deemed satisfactory, he laid it over Nick before picking up another one for himself. Then somewhere into the next movie, after Nick’s head slid down from his shoulder to his lap, they both fell asleep. 

The next morning, they both woke up a little worse for the wear -- Monroe with a rather stiff neck, and Nick, unsurprisingly, with the beginning of what was to be a fairly miserable cold. Although it had not been his intention, at least not at first, Monroe ended up camped out at Nick’s for the next couple days variously trying to get Nick to tell him what had happened and trying to make sure Nick took care of himself. 

The next afternoon, he offered Nick soup that he had slyly, or so he thought, mixed with Dayquil. Nick did not find this quite as clever as he did, though, as he fought not to spit out the first spoonful. 

“Spiking the soup, huh?” Nick asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“I thought it might make the medicine taste better,” Monroe offered lamely. “Or that you might not notice it was in there.” 

“I think it just makes the soup taste worse,” Nick replied with a grimace. “And I definitely noticed. Want some?” 

“No, I’m good,” Monroe said, as he pushed away the spoon Nick was waving at him. 

Although he hadn’t thought his plan was that terrible, he was glad Nick was teasing him over it as he’d been fairly despondent all morning. He thought that, perhaps, he was on more solid ground to pry the story out of Nick, “So, uh, want to tell me what happened yesterday?” 

“Not really. Want to watch a game or something?” Nick asked. And they did, and Monroe didn’t press the subject. As it turned out, the catalyst for Nick telling Monroe the story had nothing to do with anything that Monroe said, but rather with an action that he thought was perfectly innocuous and probably would have been if Nick had not been running a fever. 

As they finished eating a box of Kraft dinner, which Monroe had found, to his dismay, to be one of the few offerings -- vegetarian or otherwise -- of Nick’s pantry, he noticed that the tissue box on the table was empty. He rolled his eyes at Nick for neither pointing this out nor going to find another one, and then asked, gesturing to the box, “Hey, man, where might I find you another box of these?” 

Nick looked glassy-eyed at the blue floral print box for a few long moments before finally answering sullenly, “Nowhere.” 

“Nowhere? Like, you don’t keep extras in a cabinet or something?” Monroe asked, confused by Nick’s tonal flatness. 

“Of course, we do,” Nick said defensively, choking a little on the ‘we.’ He looked like he was on the verge of tears. 

“So how can they be nowhere?” Monroe asked, even more confused, both by the tissues whereabouts and Nick’s reaction to the question. 

“Because Juliette took all of them when she left,” Nick said dejectedly, throwing his face into his hands in a failed attempt to prevent Monroe from seeing that he was crying. 

“Nick,” Monroe said as he sat down and wrapped his arm around Nick’s back and placing his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I really don’t think she took the tissues.” 

“You don’t get it. You weren’t here,” Nick said gloomily, brushing Monroe’s arm away. “She had been collecting her things for weeks, and she was so upset. Because I didn’t notice. How could I not notice?” 

Nick looked at Monroe expectantly, and when his grey eyes didn’t stray from Monroe’s, he said, “Well, I guess you can’t notice everything.” 

“But I should have. I’m such an idiot,” Nick tried to take a deep breath before continuing, but this turned into him attempting to quell a severe coughing fit. 

When it didn’t stop, Monroe, fearing that Nick was going to start hyperventilating, rested his hands on Nick’s shoulders and leaned down and whispered, “Nick, breathe through your nose. Okay, now move your head towards your knees.” 

Nick followed Monroe’s instructions as Monroe rubbed his back soothingly. 

“Now this is going to seem counter-intuitive, but hold your breathe for a few seconds, then slowly start trying to breath normally.” 

Monroe relaxed back into the couch as Nick’s coughing came to a stop and his breathing became more regular. When Nick had calmed down enough to wrap his blanket around himself more tightly, Monroe suggested, “Why don’t I get you a glass of water, and you can start from the beginning? That is if you want to tell me.” 

Nick nodded, and Monroe had the feeling that this time he’d get all of the story.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [After the Rain](https://archiveofourown.org/works/351530) by [fleurofthecourt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurofthecourt/pseuds/fleurofthecourt)




End file.
